


when i find you: repose

by essomenic



Category: K-pop, Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: (no not literally. he just acts that way), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Boyfriends, Canon Universe, Comfort/Angst, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cutesy, Depression, Developing Friendships, Fluff, Grumpy Jung Wooseok, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Idols, Insomnia, LMFAO - Freeform, M/M, One of My Favorites, Sharing a Bed, Shinwon's an old dude, Short & Sweet, Social Media, am i wooseok???, like a lot, like literally - Freeform, sad wooseok, sleeping disorder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-05-03 07:19:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14563881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/essomenic/pseuds/essomenic
Summary: Wooseok can't sleep. Shinwon stays up with him when it gets to be too much.





	1. night: origin

**Author's Note:**

> i recently discovered that there is an alarming lack of woowon content on this site. i've set out to right this wrong.

 

It’s somewhere in the cosmos between day and night that it first happens.

 

The room is painted a cool shade of grey. Moonlight seeps through the open window to drag shadows across the floor, creating shapes and patterns on the hardwood that Wooseok blinks tiredly at. He doesn’t know what time it is. The morning is well on its way to sunrise, he’s sure of that, but the time is indeterminable. His eyes strain through the darkness to read the alarm clock on the low table next to his bed. It isn’t quite late nor light enough for the red numbers to do anything but swim before him. He squints. 4:08 a.m.

 

Wooseok is sure his eyes are bloodshot. Outside, a hodgepodge of stars and constellations are peeking through the clouds dotting the Seoul skyline, the wind the only sound to disrupt the eerie serenity. The city is sleeping. Wooseok should be sleeping too.

 

He can’t. He’s already exhausted himself physically in every way he can think of. He’s done everything he can to wear himself out. Practice had been grueling in its own right, but Wooseok had stayed behind a few hours more. He’d just needed to dance until his body let off the telltale signs. He just needed to work harder. He just needed to push until he broke, until he began to shut down—until he could fall asleep.

 

The hyungs hadn’t known nor cared to question him about why he’s been staying back so much lately. Hyunggu had politely asked if he could stay back too. Supposedly, he has a move, some kind of spin or something, that he just can’t perfect.

 

“I think I need some alone time,” Wooseok had smiled weakly, patting Hyunggu’s shoulder. It’s a well-known fact that they are not allowed a significant amount of privacy. The members respect one another and are pleasant most times, but as with anything, sometimes they’re better in smaller quantities. Sometimes it can be too much.

 

So Hyunggu didn’t look offended in the least at the rejection. If anything, he nodded as if he knew precisely what Wooseok was feeling. It seems debatable whether he fully grasped Wooseok’s ulterior motives, but the sentiment was appreciated.

 

“Be careful and stay hydrated,” were Hyunggu’s parting words as he gently shut the practice room door behind him.

 

Unfortunately, the added dance session hadn’t exactly fulfilled its purpose. Wooseok is tired, sure; he can feel his muscles tingling under his skin, burning every time he so much as lifts a finger. He’s going to be above and beyond sore tomorrow. Wooseok’s brain, though, isn’t tired at all. He can feel his mind filtering through the events of the day, picking out scenes to flash before his eyes as if to mock him. In particular, he can’t get over the look Shinwon sent him during practice.

 

Wooseok had been distracted, distant. He was trying his best to keep up with everyone else, going the extra mile to be even quieter and more obedient than usual. He didn’t mean to stick out like a sore thumb, and he really _was_ trying, but it wasn’t enough for Shinwon, apparently. He’d hurled a hard, almost disappointed look at Wooseok from across the room. And when Wooseok announced that he was staying back to practice more and fix the mistakes he kept making, Shinwon had shaken his head.

 

“Better get whatever’s wrong with you sorted out by tomorrow,” Shinwon had warned in a whisper when the others were heading off towards the dorms. The only thing Wooseok could do was hang his head.

 

Wooseok knows that Shinwon is just stressed. The older boy always gets a bit more on edge around comebacks. Wooseok knows Shinwon’s just looking out for him, really.

 

Still, Wooseok can’t help the sinking feeling in his gut. It feels as if someone punched him in the stomach. He doesn’t want to disappoint his hyungs, and he definitely doesn’t wish to upset Shinwon. Hell, he’s upset enough at himself as it is.

 

Wooseok rolls over in bed now, squishing his face into his pillow to stifle a groan. He has to be up in less than three hours, yet he can’t shut his brain off. His racing thoughts are causing a headache to creep up his spine and settle across his forehead. He feels tears prick at his stinging eyes, and in his frustration, he accidentally lets a sob escape him. The sound falls from his lips awkwardly in the stillness of the room, disrupting the peace and bringing Wooseok’s head back to earth. He bites his hand and squeezes his eyes closed. He hopes, _prays_ the noise didn’t wake anyone.

 

He hears rather than sees movement across the room. Someone’s heard him.

 

Wooseok stills completely. He doesn’t even grant his lungs the oxygen they need. He’s too scared it might give him away, alert someone of his existence. He hopes that if he stays still long enough, whoever is shifting across the room will give up and chalk his crying up to their imagination. Perhaps they’re too disoriented from sleep to even register the sound. Maybe they’ll just ignore it.

 

Wooseok’s pounding heartbeat is loud in his ears. He’s just shy of missing the sigh that fabricates through the darkness. It’s so quiet Wooseok’s ears barely pick up on it, but then it comes again, and it’s louder this time. Wooseok hiccups.

 

“Wooseok?”

 

Another hiccup. Wooseok’s cheeks are wet with salty tears.

 

_“Wooseok.”_

 

Shinwon. Even through the suppressed sobs wracking his body, Wooseok recognizes the voice. Immediately, Wooseok feels the hairs on the back of neck stand on end. He doesn’t want Shinwon to see him like this. But of course, he just _had_ to wake Shinwon with his crying. Wooseok could scream in frustration. He just wants to sleep. He doesn’t want anyone to yell at him. He’s so, _so_ tired.

 

Wooseok gives up on attempting to keep his emotions in check. He bites his pillow and sobs into the fabric without restraint. Shinwon’s going to be mad at him either way, so there’s no use trying to stop now.

 

It startles him completely when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He jerks his head up at the sensation. Fear and anxiety invite dread to the party in his stomach as he sees Shinwon's face hovering above him. He shrinks away from the touch as if burned.

 

“You’re going to wake the others,” Shinwon shushes him with a squeeze to his shoulder that is neither comforting nor reassuring. Even that one, short sentence holds an air of irritation and superiority so great that Wooseok wonders if Shinwon cares at all. It’s as if he’s greatly inconvenienced by Wooseok’s mere being. Sadly, Wooseok can’t even deny the probability of that being true.

 

“I-I’m s-s-sorry,” Wooseok chokes out. His body is trembling uncontrollably, his voice raw and ugly sounding. He turns his face away from Shinwon. He doesn’t want the older boy to see his snot and tear-stained face. He doesn’t want Shinwon to criticize him or make fun of him for crying like a baby.

 

But instead, to Wooseok’s surprise, Shinwon does neither. He simply moves away from Wooseok’s bed to shuffle back to his side of the room without another word. Wooseok shouldn’t be surprised. He knows Shinwon is a little less willing to express emotions out in the open or for someone else’s to be displayed in front of him. He knows Shinwon will run and hide anytime any real feelings come into play.

 

Wooseok doesn’t know why this disappoints him.

 

Shinwon is mumbling incoherent things to himself. From the light of the moon, Wooseok can see him bent over, digging through a pile of things on the floor. He retrieves a rectangular object from under a pair of jeans, only to hobble back over to Wooseok and thrust it into his hands. Wooseok squeaks.

 

“Wh-what’s this?” he snivels, eyes wide. He watches in astonishment as Shinwon plops onto the bed beside him with a lazy wave of the hand.

 

“Blow your nose,” Shinwon tsks, “you have snot all over your face.”

 

Wooseok sits up, pulling his legs up to his chest. He can only do as he’s instructed and blow his runny nose into a tissue as quietly as he can. He can feel Shinwon’s eyes on him; they’re piercing through the shadows like daggers, making Wooseok’s face grow suspiciously warm. Shinwon says nothing. Wooseok doubts he even so much as blinks.

 

It’s silent. Wooseok balls the used tissues into his fists and cringes at the wet, sticky feeling. He lets them drop to the floor beside the bed. Shinwon leans his body against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. After an unascertainable period, Shinwon speaks. When he does, his voice is impossibly low.

 

“What was that?” Wooseok murmurs, leaning forward to hear clearer. Shinwon leans forward as well, and his nose bumps against Wooseok’s cheek. Wooseok’s hands fumble in his lap nervously. “S-sorry, hyung. Accident.”

 

Shinwon sighs again. “Why were you crying?” It isn’t so much a question as it is a demand. 

 

Wooseok feels small. He wants to cave in on himself, have the ground swallow him where he sits. He wants to implode, disappear, whatever it is he needs to do to get away from this situation. Fresh tears find a path over the apples of his cheeks and down his face. They fall onto his lap. All at once, Wooseok feels pathetic. Completely, inconceivably pathetic.

 

Wooseok doesn’t even care to stop his body from falling forward. Shinwon lets out a small gasp as he catches the younger boy in his arms, their limbs knocking together uncomfortably. Wooseok buries his face into the junction where Shinwon’s shoulder and neck meet, and he cries and cries and _cries_. It feels like he’s drowning, suffocating on his sobs, but he can’t stop, he can’t _stop_. He clings to Shinwon like he’s the only thing keeping his body afloat and really, maybe he is.

 

“Wooseokie, what are you—” Shinwon cuts himself off with a soft intake of breath. Wooseok’s arms have snaked around his waist to squeeze him tightly, bringing their bodies even closer. Hesitantly, Shinwon places arms of his own around Wooseok in a weak attempt to both comfort the boy and ground himself.

 

It doesn’t work. Wooseok’s a loud person anyway, but when crying, he’s basically a very large child. On top of that, it’s very hard to calm him down once he’s started. Shinwon bites his tongue to keep from lashing out or saying anything that could upset the boy even further. It’s late, and they’re both tired, so doing so would only exacerbate the situation.

 

“Wooseokie,” he calls gently, rubbing circles into the younger boy’s back. Wooseok’s tears are wetting his shirt. “You’re going to wake the others.” At this, Wooseok stiffens immediately. Shit. Wrong thing to say. “Wooseokie,” he tries again, though his patience is running thin. “Can you stand? Are you able to get up? We need to go to the bathroom and clean you up.”

 

Wooseok shakes his head, refusing to lift it from where it’s smushed in Shinwon’s shoulder. His fingers are clenching and unclenching the material of Shinwon’s shirt.  Shinwon makes to stand, and Wooseok immediately lets out a strangled noise. His arms tighten around Shinwon’s middle. In a voice that’s barely there, he whines, “Stay.”

 

Belatedly, Shinwon realizes that this is going to be a lot harder than he originally thought. He’s never really had the job to comfort the youngest. It’s always Hwitaek or one of the other hyungs that take on the responsibility and looking back now, he’s grateful. He’s not so sure he could have handled this otherwise. At least he learned a bit from watching the members baby Wooseok if nothing else.

 

Shinwon cards his fingers through Wooseok’s hair. With his other hand, he pulls Wooseok fully onto his lap. The boy lets out a hiccup. Finally, he unwinds his arms from Shinwon’s waist, only for his hands to flap uncertainly, eyes hopping around like he’s going to be scolded. Shinwon grabs Wooseok’s hands in his own to keep them still.

 

“You need to calm down,” he tells him. Wooseok’s lip wobbles. Softly, Shinwon goes on. “I can’t help or fix it if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Can you do that for me? Can you tell me?”

 

Wooseok sniffles pitifully. “I’m t-tired,” he blubs dolefully, gaze downcast. Shinwon raises an eyebrow. “I want to sleep. I’m sorry for b-bothering you, hyung. It won’t happen again, I promise. I-I’m sorry.” He closes his eyes and lets out a shaky breath. It’s true that he’s tired, but not in the way that his words indicate.

 

“Why are you sorry?” Shinwon questions, genuinely confused. All he gets from Wooseok is a half-hearted shrug. “Because you woke me up? Because I’m tired too?” He brushes his thumbs over Wooseok’s knuckles absentmindedly. Wooseok ducks his head shyly.

 

“I’m sorry,” Wooseok repeats.

 

Shinwon doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t attempt to. He cups the crying boy’s cheeks between his hands. Wooseok’s eyes widen almost comically, startled. “Hyung...?” he peeps. Shinwon shushes him by squishing his cheeks together. Wooseok frowns. “Hyung, stop that,” he whines, though his voice is quiet. “I’m not a baby.”

 

Shinwon hums good-naturedly. “To me you are.”

 

“You’re only a little older than me,” Wooseok pouts. Shinwon releases his cheeks, and he could swear they’re pinker than they were before.

 

“I think we should sleep,” Shinwon decides. Wooseok peers at him curiously, cautiously. “What?”

 

“Will you...” Wooseok begins slowly but then shakes his head as if deciding better. He heaves a deep sigh. “Thank you, hyung.”

 

Shinwon hides a smile behind the crook of his arm, disguised as a cough. “What for?”

 

“For helping me,” Wooseok smiles, and it’s genuine. Shinwon feels himself brighten just at the sight. He ruffles Wooseok’s hair.

 

“It’s alright. But it’s late—well, early. We should get some rest. Today’s gonna suck massive dick.” Shinwon grunts to himself in irritation. He picks Wooseok up by the waist and the boy fumbles, falling back onto the bed with something like a squeak. He blinks owlishly up at Shinwon when the latter stands.

 

“Good night, Wooseokie,” Shinwon whispers. “Please get some sleep.”

 

Wooseok gulps. “Goodnight, hyung.”

 

And with that, Shinwon retreats to his own bed. Wooseok listens and waits for Shinwon to get settled before he pulls the blankets back up around him. He curls into a ball.

 

Light from the moon has almost entirely disappeared, instead replaced by a foreboding sunrise. Now the room is shrouded in pale tones, and it holds a kind of quiet expectancy that all early mornings promise. It will be daylight soon. Seoul is beginning to wake up, the cars on the street below multiplying, and the birds starting to chirp. Wooseok will have to start another day all over again, despite his last one never having ended. He will have to put on his best face for the next day, even though there are violet smudges under his eyes and a sinking weight in his heart. This is the life he willingly chose.

 

Finally, Wooseok sleeps.

 


	2. nychthemeron: endorse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be honest, i didn't think i was going to update this, but i couldn't sleep one night so here we are.  
> fun fact: Nychthemeron is a word used for both day and night!

 

Sleep is a funny thing to Wooseok.

 

It’s funny in the sense that after so many nights without it, it’s become more of an abstract concept than a fact of life. It makes him wonder when and where his little corner of reality became so far beyond repair.

 

Wooseok doesn’t sleep often. When he does, it’s usually during naps, splayed out on a couch somewhere out of sight and out of mind. He catches the few meager hours he can get, and he holds them close, hoping for the best. It’s not optimal, but it’s what Wooseok’s come to know.

 

Alternatively, Wooseok cannot sleep at night. He can’t remember the last time he was able to lie still in bed, unplug his brain, and relax. Usually, his body forces him into a kind of hibernation mode after dinner and wakes him up again shortly after everyone else has turned in for the night. Then he’s just kind of... there. He listens to the others sleep, their breathing a white noise in the background of his subconscious. He watches their unrecognizable forms shift and turn in their slumber, unperturbed by his stare. He waits, but nothing happens.

 

Until it did.

 

Wooseok chalks last night up to mere exhaustion on his part. He’d been bordering three days since a successful nap (post-dinner or otherwise), and he was beginning to _feel_ his brain eating itself. He still isn’t sure whether that theory of Hyunggu’s is true or not (can a brain eat itself?), but still. He was _really_ tired. Shinwon kind of maybe sort of cuddling him had nothing to do with shit like _feelings_.

 

So Wooseok is not naïve enough to entertain thoughts of sleeping two nights in a row. That’s not a privilege Wooseok can afford to daydream about and as much as he wishes he could, moping about his doomed fate will accomplish nothing but make him look childish.

 

That’s exactly what Wooseok does.

 

When he forces himself out of bed, he leaves his heart on the mattress. He sees the day pass by in the kind of haze it always does on days like this. He finds himself wondering about it as he’s dragged through the group’s busy schedules by Jinho and Hwitaek. When does this day end, and the next begin? Wooseok is awake for so long that he’s not even sure anymore. Everything just kind of blurs together, like a watercolor in charcoal greys, fake smiles, and tired eyes. Wooseok bemoans the days he didn’t have permanent dark circles. The makeup noonas do too. 

 

“Are you taking care of yourself?” One of them demands when Wooseok plops down in her chair. He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and cringes. He looks awful. His skin is pasty, almost sickly looking. The rings around his eyes are so dark it's as if they might up and recede into his skull. It’s going to take a hell of a lot of makeup to make him look anything other than dead. Inside, Wooseok feels a little like a big part of him _has_ died. He doesn’t have the patience for today.

 

He has to physically suppress the sigh that’s crawling up his throat by coughing. “I am trying my best,” he replies, indeed trying his best to keep his voice from giving anything away. Stabbing himself in the eye with one of their stupid makeup brushes is far more incriminating than merely looking a bit tired, after all.

 

If only he could lie down somewhere.

 

Thankfully, the two women don’t give him too much grief. He’s already gotten an earful from Jinho about his unsightly appearance. Apparently, Wooseok also has an attitude problem that he needs to “deal with.” Wooseok isn’t sure how exactly it’s supposed to be _dealt with_ because Jinho was conveniently required elsewhere before Wooseok got the opportunity to ask.

 

The makeup noonas—two young-ish women in their late twenties or early thirties or something (according to Hyojong, who is very good at guessing that sort of thing)—grumble to themselves as they attempt to make Wooseok look human again. He could double for a zombie.

 

Wooseok falls asleep during the process, much to his surprise and Hyunggu’s concern.

 

Oh well. It’s not entirely implausible.

 

* * *

 

At lunch, Wooseok feels sick.

 

Well, that’s what he tells the members, at least. Of course, they all worry and fuss and make it a big deal, but Wooseok knows it’s better than telling them the truth. He doesn’t know how to explain that he doesn’t feel like eating. He doesn’t know how to get over the fact that he isn’t even hungry.

 

So he sits on a sofa out of the way as the rest of the members eat. He catches Shinwon watching him. When Wooseok opens his mouth to speak, Shinwon looks away again.

 

After a lengthy interview, Hwitaek promises to let Wooseok rest more tomorrow if he gets through their busy day today. Wooseok tells him it’s okay, and that he can handle it.

 

It isn’t until they’re in the car on their way to the practice room that Wooseok is allowed a second to close his eyes properly. He lies still and tries to ease his mind into silence. He waits and waits and _waits_ , ever patient, but he does not sleep. His exasperation draws his brows together and pulls a huff from him. His eyes hurt. His body hurts. But most of all, Wooseok’s pride is hurt. He’s the maknae; he’s supposed to be supporting his hyungs by carrying his own, by helping with anything he can. But instead, they have to drop their heavy responsibilities to take care of him. He doesn’t like it. He feels like extra weight, like an unnecessary burden to everyone.

 

Hyunggu is sitting next to him. He has earbuds stuffed in his ears, his head bobbing along to music only he can hear. Wooseok finds himself studying him out of the corner of his eye. Hyunggu always looks so effortlessly alive. Hyunggu doesn’t have to try to be everything that makes him Hyunggu. He simply... _is_. And in many ways, Wooseok is envious of his friend.

 

He slinks further down in his seat unhappily.

 

Shinwon is sitting in the row directly in front of Wooseok’s. He glances over his shoulder at the boy attempting to sink so far into his seat that he becomes one with the car. Wooseok’s heart jumps a little as their eyes find each other in the orange glow of the setting sun.

 

Shinwon doesn’t say anything. He turns back around, much to Wooseok’s irritation. The older boy’s been avoiding him all day. He hasn’t spoken a single word to him outside of the “move” that he grunted when Wooseok moved a bit too close during their earlier interview. It isn’t out of the ordinary for Shinwon to keep to himself. He’s generally a quiet guy.

 

This is a bit extreme, though, even for Shinwon. Wooseok can’t fathom as to why. Surely, it can’t be because Wooseok cried and got all weepy and emotional. It can’t be.

 

...Right?

 

* * *

 

At practice, Wooseok learns the full consequences of last night. He feels sluggish, bogged down like he always does after sleeping for the first time in so long. It’s like his body is digging its heels in and saying _no_. He knows he needs more sleep to function correctly. His brain is working as quickly as it can, but it’s as if his body refuses to move. His heart rate is fast and annoying, causing his lungs to feel as though an invisible hand is pressing against his chest. No matter how much he greedily gulps in the stagnant air, it doesn’t feel like enough. He can’t seem to keep up with everything. The members shouting orders, the music blaring—it’s overwhelming.

 

Wooseok is thankful that he knows most of the moves by now and won’t have to think so hard. Muscle memory will help him today if nothing and no one else will.

 

Hwitaek claps his hands suddenly in the middle of their fourth time through the same routine to tell them to cut it short today and go back to the dorms to eat and sleep. As per usual, Jinho does not seem happy with the decision. He pulls Hwitaek off to the side to whisper and conspire with him in hushed tones. Wooseok knows it’s about him. Their eyes jut towards him too frequently for pure coincidence.

 

“Are you staying behind to practice more?” Hyunggu skips up to him as they collect their belongings and towel off their sweat. He smiles brightly. In one hand is his water bottle, his fingers wound tightly around it. Wooseok looks down at it. Hyunggu’s knuckles are white.

 

“No, I don’t think I should,” Wooseok responds slowly.

 

Hyunggu lets out a relieved puff of air. “That’s good,” he chuckles lightly. “I don’t think you should either.”

 

Wooseok tries listening to Hyunggu as he hops around topics, he does. But there is nothing to be done about Wooseok’s concentration. It isn’t that he doesn’t _want_ to discuss the best jelly bean flavors or which _Star Wars_ film is superior. On the contrary, Wooseok would very much appreciate the compelling debate. However, Wooseok’s head is splitting so far in two that not even a heavy dose of Tylenol will be able to put it back together again.

 

Hyunggu has given up trying to engage Wooseok by the time they make it back to their dorms. They walk in relative silence to their respective rooms. All of them are teetering between passing out and something not far off, and Wooseok is glad for the peace.

 

Wooseok finds Shinwon already in their room when he peeks his head around the door. He’s lying on his side, facing toward the wall and away from Wooseok. He rolls over at the sound of Wooseok closing the door behind him, glancing at the younger boy briefly before going back to scrolling through his phone.

 

“No shower?” Shinwon asks, attention fixed to his screen.

 

Wooseok shuffles to his bed, depositing his bag next to it. “The others will take forever to wash up. I might as well just shower tomorrow.”

 

Shinwon makes a noise somewhere between a scoff and a sniff. “You can’t sleep if you don’t shower before bed.”

 

“I can’t sleep anyway,” Wooseok points out bitterly. He sits crisscross on top of the wrinkled comforter, and it’s then that Shinwon looks up again. He narrows his eyes, observing Wooseok under a critical eye. Wooseok swallows audibly. “What is it?”

 

“You seemed to sleep just fine last night,” Shinwon remarks casually, though his tone indicates otherwise.

 

“That was—that was different,” Wooseok flounders, then grimaces at Shinwon’s expression. “No, look. It was... I don’t know what that was. It was... weird. Abnormal. Everyone knows I can’t sleep.”

 

Shinwon doesn’t appear to believe him. “Uh-huh. Sure. Well, just do whatever you did last night again and maybe you’ll sleep.”

 

Wooseok’s brave face caves in a bit at the reminder, his cheeks heating up without his permission. Across the room, Shinwon sees and raises an eyebrow. Thankfully, he does not mention it, although he states once again that he thinks Wooseok would greatly benefit from the use of a shower. Wooseok knows that’s just his nicest way of telling him he stinks.

 

“By all means, sleep in your own sweat and filth,” Shinwon gripes for the fifth time, prompting Wooseok to roll his eyes. “You definitely won’t see _me_ doing that. I’m showering right after Hyojong gets done. I suggest you take up my kind and unwarranted offer of going before me.”

 

Wooseok chuckles lightly. “Okay, hyung. I’ll shower after you. But no promises that I’ll sleep any better.”

 

That satisfies Shinwon for the present. They both take their showers and everything seems to be going well. Wooseok even nearly passes out in the bathroom, which is a good sign. It’s as good a sign as any that he just _might_ sleep tonight.

 

During his shower and the journey back to their room, Wooseok’s grip on it loosens. He should not be surprised. As it usually does, his body has decided to drain all somnolence from him with each passing second. Sometimes it gives him such anxiety to always be chasing sleep around and around in circles. If he doesn’t catch it in time, it’s gone for another painful night of bloodshot eyes and headaches. Sometimes he’s lucky enough to stop the cycle for a few weeks in which he can sleep a decent amount and calm his brain. Others, he isn’t so fortunate.

 

Tonight is beginning to appear a friend of the latter.

 

“I hope you try to sleep tonight,” Shinwon voices when Wooseok returns to sitting on his bed, now freshly showered and with a decidedly grumpy set to his jaw.

 

“What’s the use in trying?” Wooseok scowls in return.

 

Shinwon, in the middle of pulling his blankets around him, pauses. “Try, try again, my friend,” he quips in that deadpanned sense of humor he so greatly enjoys.

 

Wooseok’s not in the mood. “That’s something only someone used to winning says. Or, in this case, _sleeping_.”

 

“I’ve had insomnia before,” Shinwon shrugs. “Sure, it wasn’t anything as bad as you have, and I didn’t have it for very long, but I can relate, Wooseok.”

 

This only further sours Wooseok’s mood. He feels like he could cry. But no. Not going there again. He’s already embarrassed himself enough to last him the next ten years. He doesn’t need any more material to further water Shinwon’s ego. The guy’s bad enough as it is without the encouragement.

 

“Thanks for the input,” Wooseok smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

 

Shinwon hisses. “Stop that,” he snaps. “You’re doing that thing again.”

 

Wooseok lies back against his bed. The mattress is stiff and lumpy in places. In one spot, he can feel what he presumes to be a spring jab him in the rib. He’s pretty sure mattresses aren’t supposed to do that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lies through his teeth.

 

Shinwon, with his all-seeing eye, doesn’t buy it. “You’re really difficult, you know?”

 

“So I’ve heard.”

 

Eventually, Shinwon gets up to turn to the light off. But instead of scuffling back to his bed and significantly less lumpy mattress (perks of being the elder, Wooseok supposes), Shinwon stands by the light switch as darkness overtakes their senses.

 

“What are you doing?” Wooseok whisper-yells over to him.

 

Silence.

 

“Hyung...?”

 

The bed dips by Wooseok’s feet. With it comes a sigh from Shinwon. It fabricates feathery light against Wooseok’s ears.

 

“Hyung, what is it?” Wooseok murmurs. His eyes are beginning to adjust to their new lighting arrangement (or lack thereof). He can just make out the lines of Shinwon’s profile. He’s turned away from Wooseok, feet and eyes on the floor. Wooseok sits up to prod at his arm.

 

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Shinwon begins, brushing Wooseok’s offending pointer finger away. “There’s probably help for your insomnia. I know you’ve tried melatonin—” Wooseok squawks in surprise. “—I heard from Hui-hyung. I know it didn’t work for you. That’s usually what doctors suggest first. There are other options, though. And I’m sure they shouldn’t be too hard to get. It’s just... keeping this a secret from the fans.” Wooseok can’t fully see his face, but he can clearly hear his grimace.

 

“The fans aren’t always understanding,” Wooseok intones.

 

In the dark, Shinwon nods. “But your health is most important. Remember that.”

 

In the dark, Wooseok’s heart clenches. “Yeah.”

 

Shinwon reaches out to pat Wooseok’s arm. Wooseok holds his breath.

 

“Goodnight,” Shinwon says. His hand inches up until it’s cupping Wooseok’s cheek. Unthinkingly, Wooseok leans into the touch with a small smile, drawing a soft snort from the older boy. “You’re just like a puppy.” He grins impishly. “Do the members not pet you enough, puppy?” Insufferably, he pats the top of Wooseok’s head.

 

Wooseok jerks away with a frown. “I’m not a puppy, thank you.”

 

“The puppy’s cranky, eh?”

 

“Hyung!”

 

“Right, right. I’m sorry,” Shinwon acquiesces, biting his lip to keep his smile from waking up the whole dorm. “You make teasing you too easy.”

 

Wooseok crosses his arms over his chest and sulks. “Goodnight, hyung,” he monotones.

 

“Anything for my favorite dongsaeng,” Shinwon goads.

 

A warm flush crawls up Wooseok’s neck, his ears burning hot. He hits Shinwon’s shoulder, although it’s hardly anything but playful. “Don’t lie to me,” he mumbles bashfully, “everyone knows that’s Hyunggu.”

 

“Well, you’re my favorite for when he’s not around.”

 

“Hyung, that’s mean.”

 

Shinwon lets out a choked laugh. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. Then, Wooseok feels fingertips press into his neck.

 

“I hope you try to rest,” Shinwon says again.

 

This time, there’s a smile sitting on the edge of Wooseok’s mouth.

 

“I hope so too.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know how you like this! kudos and comments appreciated!!


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